(continued from Part I; please see my note at the beginning of the first part)
When Sally began seeing Ted, we all knew that he was sharing what had been only mine for 16 years. Yes, he came to know her secrets – the secrets of her body, the secrets of her feelings, the secrets of her orgasms – but so did I. Even at the most intense moments of cuckolding, I knew that she would come home with me, and I would have my turn.
But no longer.
Now, as I watched the two lovers eat and chat amicably, I realized that each was looking forward to something which only the other could give. Ted was looking forward to sex with my beautiful wife, and Sally was looking forward to sex – real sex, GOOD sex – with her lover. Not only did they want each other; they wanted ONLY each other.
So this is what it feels like to be a cuckold, I thought. Not just to be cuckolded, sitting in the next room while my wife fucks another man, but to be a cuckold: to live with the knowledge that she wants him, not me, in her bed and in her body. It was a good thing I had not cum in three days, because the pain and humiliation I felt at that moment would have made me run away, or pass out, if I had been less horny.
They sat over lunch forever. I couldn’t believe they kept talking after the meal was over, until I realized they were in no hurry. They knew what would happen next, and they were savoring their time together like exquisitely subtle foreplay. Finally they arose, and Sally excused herself to go to the rest room while Ted and I waited for her in the restaurant hallway. Always the gentleman, he made small talk, as if either of us was not aware of what was about to transpire. The businesspeople passing by us had no idea that he was about to fuck my wife, nor did they know how much my wife was longing for his touch. Just before Sally returned I managed to croak out, “She’s my wife, you know.” Ted said, simply, “I know,” and turned to smile at her as she emerged from the ladies’ room.
The drive back to the hotel was mercifully short, and the three of us made our way to our – or rather, their – room. They sat together on the couch in the living room, and I took the only other seat available, in the chair facing them. Sally started reminiscing about their first date, and they were both amused to discover that I remembered every single detail, repeating the conversation verbatim. Ted had his arm around her, and when I talked about them first kissing, he leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips.
As I shuddered from the simple, shocking reality of another man kissing my wife in front of me, I saw that the kiss had an even stronger effect on the two of them. Sally shook a little, and Ted took her hand and helped her to her feet.
“Enough with old memories. Let’s make some new ones,” he said.
As my wife took his hand and walked toward the bedroom with a smile on her face, I said the only thing a cuckold can possibly say in a situation like that:
“Have a nice time.”
If there is a single phrase that illustrates the feeling of being a cuckold, it is that one. Sitting there in the living room chair, watching my wife and her lover head for the bedroom to make love to each other, I do not do any of the things a normal man would do. I do not fight, or even protest. I do not cry or get angry. I just sit meekly in the corner, and tell my wife and her lover that I hope they “have a nice time” making love. The words ring in my ears, mocking me, yet even in retrospect I cannot think of anything else to say. I actually DO hope they have a nice time, and I know I will sit there quietly and wait for hours until they are finished. We each have a role in this relationship, and my role is to bring my wife to her lover, to keep them company at lunch, and then to step aside so they can share time and intimacy and sex together.
Sally and Ted smiled in response, wrapped their arms around each other’s waist, and disappeared down the hallway. I heard the bedroom door close behind them.
This is it now, I thought. For the next few hours they are together, and I am alone. I take a towel from the bathroom, spread it on the couch, and start getting undressed. They don’t care what I do now, so I will spend the time masturbating. I still will not cum – damn, the thought of sitting through all of this when I’m not massively horny is incentive enough to hold back – but I will jerk off thinking about what my wife is giving to him… and not to me.
Yet I have only begun to unbutton my shirt when Sally calls to me. I walk to the bedroom door and knock – how stupid is that for a husband to do? – and Sally says, “Come in.” The first thing I see is Ted’s naked back, naked legs, naked ass: he is standing by the bed, facing toward it. Then I see my wife’s head pop out beside his hips, and I see that she was lying on the bed, sucking his cock when I entered. She smiles at me and says, “I left my purse in the other room, and it has my vibrator in it. Please get it.”
I nod dumbly and walk into the living room to retrieve her bag. It had not been even five minutes and the two of them were completely naked already; they must have torn their clothes off as soon as they got into the room! (Afterward, Sally would tell me that I was right. They got into the bedroom, Ted kissed her, she felt her pussy gush with lubrication, and they did, indeed tear their own clothes off in their rush to get to bed.) Walking back to the bedroom I steeled myself for the sight of my naked wife and her naked lover, but reality again knocked the breath out of me as I saw Ted leaning down, kissing my wife and holding her breast in his hand, his naked ass pointed directly at me as I laid her purse on the night table.
Sally broke her lips away from his long enough to say, “That’s it. Now go.” As she spoke, Ted looked up at me. I half expected him to laugh, given my ridiculous status as errand-boy for my wife, but his expression was completely serious. My heart jumped as I realized he had no desire to laugh at me; in fact, he barely noticed me. His face was that of a man intent on sex, and no mere husband was going to interrupt his goal of making love to the woman lying next to him. I felt small. I felt insignificant. I felt ignored even as I stood there. I heard a sigh escape from her lips – or was it from his? – as I quietly closed their bedroom door behind me.
Sally and Ted don’t just fuck; they make love. Of course they have sex, but they also spend hours in bed talking together. But they follow a pattern, and I know the sex comes first when they go to bed. So after being dismissed, I knew they would have no reason to call for me again, at least for a while. I quickly took off all my clothes, grabbed a towel from the bathroom and the Vaseline from my coat pocket, and sat down on the hallway floor, outside of their bedroom. My eyes were glued to the door, as if somehow I would develop x-ray vision to see what was happening inside. Unfortunately that did not happen, but I was able to make out the sounds of their lovemaking. As I have described before, those sounds tell a lot – not everything, but a lot – about what my wife and her lover are doing together.
Kissing, then Ted moaning. Sally must be sucking his cock again. Occasionally he laughs – not out of amusement, but out of amazement at how good she is at blowing him.
The rustle of the sheets, then a simultaneous intake of breath from Sally and a deep moan from Ted. He just slid his cock into my wife’s pussy.
Rhythmic bouncing of the bedframe – slow, then fast, then slow again – and noises which anyone from anywhere would know to be the sounds of a man and a woman fucking. I hear Ted’s excitement build, and I wonder if he is going to cum. But he stops suddenly, and I hear Sally’s vibrator start. How considerate of Ted, to make sure my wife cums before he does!
Silence. I think I hear the sounds of kissing, but they are faint and… well, so am I. Sally has told me how Ted touches her everywhere while he’s bringing her off: kissing her lips, sucking her nipples, running his hands everywhere. Every once in a while I hear the vibrator, then the sound disappears. I know it has not stopped; it is tucked tightly between my wife’s pussy lips, and I only hear it as it momentarily adjusts on its target. My wife is in heaven now: her lover in her bed, her vibrator on her clit, her husband out of sight, out of mind – and out the door.
Minutes go by. It seems like hours, as I wait for THAT sound. When I hear it, I feel a mixture of shame and, oddly enough, relief. One, long grunt – my wife’s orgasm sound – followed by the sound of something slamming down on the bed, again and again. That “something” is my wife’s body, jerking and spasming as she cums in her lover’s arms. Yes, I am ashamed to be sitting on the floor while another man gives her pleasure. But I also feel a sense of joy: I am glad to hear her feeling so good. And I know what comes next, because my wife will want to give him that ultimate pleasure very soon.
Very soon? How about, “instantly”? The only way I can tell that the bed is now bouncing from fucking is by the sounds which Ted is making. He must have jumped her even as she finished cumming, because there was no pause at all. I hear Sally speaking to him in a staccato voice: I cannot hear the words, but I know she is encouraging him to cum in her, and with each stroke of his penis he forces her to catch her breath. I hear him groaning, and I know he is enjoying sex, enjoying my wife… enjoying what she has saved for him and denied to me.
(continued in Part III)
When Sally began seeing Ted, we all knew that he was sharing what had been only mine for 16 years. Yes, he came to know her secrets – the secrets of her body, the secrets of her feelings, the secrets of her orgasms – but so did I. Even at the most intense moments of cuckolding, I knew that she would come home with me, and I would have my turn.
But no longer.
Now, as I watched the two lovers eat and chat amicably, I realized that each was looking forward to something which only the other could give. Ted was looking forward to sex with my beautiful wife, and Sally was looking forward to sex – real sex, GOOD sex – with her lover. Not only did they want each other; they wanted ONLY each other.
So this is what it feels like to be a cuckold, I thought. Not just to be cuckolded, sitting in the next room while my wife fucks another man, but to be a cuckold: to live with the knowledge that she wants him, not me, in her bed and in her body. It was a good thing I had not cum in three days, because the pain and humiliation I felt at that moment would have made me run away, or pass out, if I had been less horny.
They sat over lunch forever. I couldn’t believe they kept talking after the meal was over, until I realized they were in no hurry. They knew what would happen next, and they were savoring their time together like exquisitely subtle foreplay. Finally they arose, and Sally excused herself to go to the rest room while Ted and I waited for her in the restaurant hallway. Always the gentleman, he made small talk, as if either of us was not aware of what was about to transpire. The businesspeople passing by us had no idea that he was about to fuck my wife, nor did they know how much my wife was longing for his touch. Just before Sally returned I managed to croak out, “She’s my wife, you know.” Ted said, simply, “I know,” and turned to smile at her as she emerged from the ladies’ room.
The drive back to the hotel was mercifully short, and the three of us made our way to our – or rather, their – room. They sat together on the couch in the living room, and I took the only other seat available, in the chair facing them. Sally started reminiscing about their first date, and they were both amused to discover that I remembered every single detail, repeating the conversation verbatim. Ted had his arm around her, and when I talked about them first kissing, he leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips.
As I shuddered from the simple, shocking reality of another man kissing my wife in front of me, I saw that the kiss had an even stronger effect on the two of them. Sally shook a little, and Ted took her hand and helped her to her feet.
“Enough with old memories. Let’s make some new ones,” he said.
As my wife took his hand and walked toward the bedroom with a smile on her face, I said the only thing a cuckold can possibly say in a situation like that:
“Have a nice time.”
If there is a single phrase that illustrates the feeling of being a cuckold, it is that one. Sitting there in the living room chair, watching my wife and her lover head for the bedroom to make love to each other, I do not do any of the things a normal man would do. I do not fight, or even protest. I do not cry or get angry. I just sit meekly in the corner, and tell my wife and her lover that I hope they “have a nice time” making love. The words ring in my ears, mocking me, yet even in retrospect I cannot think of anything else to say. I actually DO hope they have a nice time, and I know I will sit there quietly and wait for hours until they are finished. We each have a role in this relationship, and my role is to bring my wife to her lover, to keep them company at lunch, and then to step aside so they can share time and intimacy and sex together.
Sally and Ted smiled in response, wrapped their arms around each other’s waist, and disappeared down the hallway. I heard the bedroom door close behind them.
This is it now, I thought. For the next few hours they are together, and I am alone. I take a towel from the bathroom, spread it on the couch, and start getting undressed. They don’t care what I do now, so I will spend the time masturbating. I still will not cum – damn, the thought of sitting through all of this when I’m not massively horny is incentive enough to hold back – but I will jerk off thinking about what my wife is giving to him… and not to me.
Yet I have only begun to unbutton my shirt when Sally calls to me. I walk to the bedroom door and knock – how stupid is that for a husband to do? – and Sally says, “Come in.” The first thing I see is Ted’s naked back, naked legs, naked ass: he is standing by the bed, facing toward it. Then I see my wife’s head pop out beside his hips, and I see that she was lying on the bed, sucking his cock when I entered. She smiles at me and says, “I left my purse in the other room, and it has my vibrator in it. Please get it.”
I nod dumbly and walk into the living room to retrieve her bag. It had not been even five minutes and the two of them were completely naked already; they must have torn their clothes off as soon as they got into the room! (Afterward, Sally would tell me that I was right. They got into the bedroom, Ted kissed her, she felt her pussy gush with lubrication, and they did, indeed tear their own clothes off in their rush to get to bed.) Walking back to the bedroom I steeled myself for the sight of my naked wife and her naked lover, but reality again knocked the breath out of me as I saw Ted leaning down, kissing my wife and holding her breast in his hand, his naked ass pointed directly at me as I laid her purse on the night table.
Sally broke her lips away from his long enough to say, “That’s it. Now go.” As she spoke, Ted looked up at me. I half expected him to laugh, given my ridiculous status as errand-boy for my wife, but his expression was completely serious. My heart jumped as I realized he had no desire to laugh at me; in fact, he barely noticed me. His face was that of a man intent on sex, and no mere husband was going to interrupt his goal of making love to the woman lying next to him. I felt small. I felt insignificant. I felt ignored even as I stood there. I heard a sigh escape from her lips – or was it from his? – as I quietly closed their bedroom door behind me.
Sally and Ted don’t just fuck; they make love. Of course they have sex, but they also spend hours in bed talking together. But they follow a pattern, and I know the sex comes first when they go to bed. So after being dismissed, I knew they would have no reason to call for me again, at least for a while. I quickly took off all my clothes, grabbed a towel from the bathroom and the Vaseline from my coat pocket, and sat down on the hallway floor, outside of their bedroom. My eyes were glued to the door, as if somehow I would develop x-ray vision to see what was happening inside. Unfortunately that did not happen, but I was able to make out the sounds of their lovemaking. As I have described before, those sounds tell a lot – not everything, but a lot – about what my wife and her lover are doing together.
Kissing, then Ted moaning. Sally must be sucking his cock again. Occasionally he laughs – not out of amusement, but out of amazement at how good she is at blowing him.
The rustle of the sheets, then a simultaneous intake of breath from Sally and a deep moan from Ted. He just slid his cock into my wife’s pussy.
Rhythmic bouncing of the bedframe – slow, then fast, then slow again – and noises which anyone from anywhere would know to be the sounds of a man and a woman fucking. I hear Ted’s excitement build, and I wonder if he is going to cum. But he stops suddenly, and I hear Sally’s vibrator start. How considerate of Ted, to make sure my wife cums before he does!
Silence. I think I hear the sounds of kissing, but they are faint and… well, so am I. Sally has told me how Ted touches her everywhere while he’s bringing her off: kissing her lips, sucking her nipples, running his hands everywhere. Every once in a while I hear the vibrator, then the sound disappears. I know it has not stopped; it is tucked tightly between my wife’s pussy lips, and I only hear it as it momentarily adjusts on its target. My wife is in heaven now: her lover in her bed, her vibrator on her clit, her husband out of sight, out of mind – and out the door.
Minutes go by. It seems like hours, as I wait for THAT sound. When I hear it, I feel a mixture of shame and, oddly enough, relief. One, long grunt – my wife’s orgasm sound – followed by the sound of something slamming down on the bed, again and again. That “something” is my wife’s body, jerking and spasming as she cums in her lover’s arms. Yes, I am ashamed to be sitting on the floor while another man gives her pleasure. But I also feel a sense of joy: I am glad to hear her feeling so good. And I know what comes next, because my wife will want to give him that ultimate pleasure very soon.
Very soon? How about, “instantly”? The only way I can tell that the bed is now bouncing from fucking is by the sounds which Ted is making. He must have jumped her even as she finished cumming, because there was no pause at all. I hear Sally speaking to him in a staccato voice: I cannot hear the words, but I know she is encouraging him to cum in her, and with each stroke of his penis he forces her to catch her breath. I hear him groaning, and I know he is enjoying sex, enjoying my wife… enjoying what she has saved for him and denied to me.
(continued in Part III)
